


Breaking In

by someonehelpme



Series: Timkon Week 2019 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:38:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonehelpme/pseuds/someonehelpme
Summary: Timkon Week 2019Day 3 - College AU - Hurt/ComfortMeeting new people, studying, breaking into buildings. College was a lot different than Conner thought it would be.





	Breaking In

**Author's Note:**

> Not completely happy with this, but whatever!
> 
> Spoilers for The Veldt by Ray Bradbury

Conner rubbed his eyes as he left the library. It was past midnight; the library was supposed to be closed several minutes ago. The librarian had let him stay as long as she could but had to kick him out when she locked up.

Conner ran his hands through his hair. The book he needed for his biology paper stayed in the library, it couldn’t be checked out. His paper was due in the next day and he couldn’t start writing until he finished reading the chapter.

His professor seemed to think that his students only took his class. The professor assigned the paper yesterday and expected his forty students to share the two textbooks needed for the assignment and write the paper before the class the next day. He didn’t even seem to consider that they might have things like work or other classes’ homework.

Conner exhaled heavily. When he finally got his turn with the textbook it had been about two hours to closing. He had spent every second poring over the textbook, frantically scribbling notes and in the last ten minutes trying to take photos with phone to look at later. At least half of them turned out useless and blurry.

He tried to zoom in on one of the photos, squinting at a diagram of what was either an example of a human heart or a weird flower. He sighed and deleted the photo.

While he had his phone out, he set an alarm for six am the following morning. He could head to the library first thing in the morning and finish his paper then, before his afternoon class.

Unfortunately for Kon, before heading to the library, he had downed three cups of coffee and there was no way he was going to fall asleep before four am. So, about two hours of sleep. He could handle that. He might cry a little when he woke up, but he could handle it.

He waved goodbye to the librarian as she left and walked over to the bench. A bus would arrive in around twenty minutes and save him a walk back to the dorm.

His university, Vandyre University, had a giant campus, especially considering its proximity to San Francisco. It was famous for its diverse students and majors. It had everything from medical to business to technical courses.

His cousin, Kara Zor-El, had raved about both their writing and drama programs. She was a recent graduate and was currently working overseas as an undercover reporter. She told Conner that she was glad she’d taken the acting class, they helped her with creating fake identities that allowed her to get her stories. She was the one who recommended Vandyre to him and had helped him move in, showing him around campus. Conner made a note to call Kara as soon as he could.

He missed her. He loved Ma and Pa, but he knew he couldn’t stay in Smallville. The small-town life, where everyone knew everyone else, made Conner feel like he was drowning. He tried living in Metropolis with Clark and Lois.

Living with Clark was its own kind of drowning.

He looked just like Clark and everywhere they went, someone was sure to mention it, leading to awkward questions about Conner’s paternity. Sometimes Conner wanted to make the situation awkward, to say that he was Clark’s bastard son or something like that, but he never did. 

Clark didn’t know how to act around Conner. He treated Conner so differently than his biological son that even ten-year-old Jon had commented on it. People expected him to be a clone of Clark and attend Metropolis University, get a journalism degree, and work for some big newspaper. Conner hated it. They didn’t even see him as his own person, just a copy of Clark and a worse one at that.

Kara saw him and saw him as Kon. She didn’t expect him to start wearing polos and glasses. She bought him his first leather jacket and helped him figure out want he wanted from life. She told him that sometimes knowing what you don’t want from life is almost as good as know what you want. When he told her he didn’t want to be journalist, she’d nodded and didn’t ask him why.

When he had chosen Vandyre, Kara had helped him write his application and took him out for ice cream when he received his acceptance latter. She’d taken time off work to personally drive him to California, making it into a road trip, complete with stops at every tourist trap they could find.

When she had to leave, she pressed a slip of paper with the number for the phone she used while undercover.

“Call me anytime. If you need someone to complain to or just want to talk about what you ate for lunch, call me. I don’t want you to feel alone here.”

His cousin was the best person alive.

He closed his textbooks, pulling out his phone to text her, just to say he was thinking of her, when something out of the corner of his eye moved.

The fact that Vandyre University was one of the safest in the country was something Kara had reassured Ma and Pa multiple times. She had, however, also packed an aluminum baseball bat and pepper spray in Kon’s suitcase.

Conner pulled said pepper spray out of his messenger bag, clutching it tight.

A dark figure holding a crowbar approached.

Conner couldn’t see their face; the hood of their coat was pulled up over their face. Conner watched the person get closer. It didn’t seem like they noticed him yet and he could have relaxed, but the crowbar and backpack the person carried meant they weren’t a midnight jogger.

The person walked up to the library and dropped their bag to the floor. They pulled out a pair of gloves and shoved the crowbar into the bag. To Conner’s disbelief, the figure readjusted their backpack and scaled the side of the library wall and perched on a window seat, two stories up.

Conner stood from the bench and walked to stand under window that the person using the crowbar to open. They used the crowbar to pop the window open and swung their leg into the window.

The hood covering the person’s face fell back as they entered the library and Conner recognized the person.

“Hey!” The figure froze. “I know you. You’re in my creative writing class, aren’t you?”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life, please go away,” the person replied. Kon nodded. The voice confirmed his suspicions.

“It’s Tim, right?”

Tim sighed and turned to face him. “Yes. And you’re Conner Kent, undecided major, and you live in Canary Hall. I’m kind of breaking into a building right now, can we talk later?”

“Can you unlock the front door?” When Tim stared at him blankly, Conner continued. “I got homework to do, help me out.”

Tim paused, considering. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Timothy slipped through the window and a few minutes later the front door popped open.

“Thanks.” Conner walked right upstairs and found the book he had put on the shelf not twenty minutes ago. He spread his stuff over an empty table and flipped open the book. He found his place and started to write.

Tim grabbed several books off the shelf and started a pile a few chairs down from Kon. He paused and glanced over at Kon. Kon pretended not to notice.

He had never spoken to Tim before. He saw him in the creative writing class they shared and on occasion had passed by him on campus. He knew Tim as the smart guy in the fourth row who frequently fell asleep in class, but somehow always knew the right answer.

Conner also noticed that he was incredibly attractive. He wasn’t the only one who noticed, more than once he had seen their classmates stare at Tim, sending him longing glances.

Once a girl had pretended to need help with homework in order to try to ask him out. Conner had watched, slightly jealous he hadn’t thought of it first. However, his jealousy was unwarranted. Tim, misunderstanding her intentions, had set up a study group. They still met every Wednesday and although Kon had never gone, he had heard that attendance was high. He doubted that most of the group needed help with the class, but he couldn’t begrudge them their chance to see Tim outside of the classroom.

They both settled into their books and worked in companionable silence. Tim flipped through one of the thickest books Conner had ever seen and started to take notes. The only sound was the scratching of pencils.

They had to work closely, for they shared a small light Tim had brought with him. This was clearly not his first time breaking in. They couldn't turn on the lights, in case someone walking noticed intruders in the library. 

After about two hours, Conner was wrapping up his paper. He checked his book to ensure he was citing everything properly. He would need to re-read it later to make sure everything made sense, but it sounded good. It almost looked like he knew what he was doing.

He noticed that Tim was stealing glances again.

Tim’s eyes darted over to Kon’s face. “Hey, um.”

“Yeah?”

“What was the reading that Professor Wheeler assigned? I want to go over it before the next study group.”

“_The Veldt _by Ray Bradbury, it’s on page 326.”

“Oh, I love that story.”

“Really? It’s creepy.” Conner recalled the story about two children who murder their parents after they try to shut off the children’s virtual nursery.

“Yes, but it’s a warning.” Tim closed his book and slid into a chair closer to Kon. “The children didn’t become murderers in a day, just like the parents didn’t become useless in a day.”

“What do mean by useless?” Conner asked, kind of surprised by Tim’s callousness.

“George and Lydia bought their children an expensive nursery in their expensive house. They only thing they did for their children was buy them things. They leave the children alone in the house, basically with a robotic nanny who gives them everything they could want. The house is the one reading the children bedtime stories and holding them when they cry. It’s no wonder the children attacked their parents. Their father was basically planning to murder the only thing that showed them love.”

“Yeah, but the house took over being a parent from George and Linda. It’s the villain in the story.”

“The mother’s name is Lydia. And I think the only villain in the story is the humans.”

“The house made the parents useless, you said it yourself,” Conner argued.

“The house didn’t make them useless, it’s a house. Think of autocorrect. Even though you might use autocorrect, you still know how to write and if it was suddenly turned off, you’d still be able to manage, right?” Conner nodded and Tim continued. “Lydia and George relied so heavily on autocorrect they forgot how to write. They let the house cook and clean and parent their children, but in doing so, they became neglectful. When they tried to turn off the house, they didn’t know what to do with their children anymore.”

“I still believe that the author was getting after the fact that house was the one controlling the family.”

“Maybe so. Maybe the HappyHouse was a terrible invention. But it was made by humans, used by humans, and the Hadleys had a responsibility to control their children and their technology. They failed to do so and paid the ultimate price.” Tim shrugged his shoulders. “At least, that was my impression of it when I first read it. I might have completely misunderstood it.”

“You know, even if people think you’re wrong, I believe that if there is only one “right answer” to a story like that, then it can’t be very well written. Art is interpretive. The way you read a story is affected by your life experiences.”

Tim smiled. “I like the way you think. You’re different.”

“You’re a bit different yourself. You break into libraries. What else do you do in your free time?” Conner asked.

Tim leaned back in his seat. “I like working with computers. I study criminal justice and forensic science when I can. I’m working towards a business major and a tech major, but I haven’t narrowed it done. I know I want to double major. I volunteer at a homeless shelter and I intern at a forensic lab.”

Conner whistled. “You’re ambitious.”

“Maybe,” shrugged Tim. “What about you?”

“You know I’m still undecided. Actually, how did you know that?”

Tim glanced away and rolled his shoulders. “I’ve seen you around campus,” he said evasively.

“Do you keep tabs on everyone you see around campus?” Conner asked, leaning forward.

“Not really. But as I said, you’re different.” Tim’s lips quirked in a tiny smile.

_Holy crap, was he flirting?_

Conner decided to go the modest route. “Well, I’m not that special, I’ve decided what I want to do yet, but-”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m sorry?” Conner asked, confused.

“You’re either lying to me or yourself. I don’t think it’s the latter. So, what do you want to do?”

Conner hesitated. “I think that’s a little personal for a first meeting.”

“And I think strangers are the best people to talk to. What does my opinion of your life goals matter? For all we know, we may never speak again.”

“I sure hope not,” joked Conner. “Alright then, a secret for a secret. I’ll tell you what I want to do if you tell me something no one else on campus knows.”

Tim paused, but agreed. “No one else can know.”

“I’d like that. I’m pretty sure my cousin is using her old friends to keep tabs on me and I don’t want to tell her yet.”

“You want to go first, or should I?” Tim offered.

“Why don’t you go first.”

Tim nodded. “Alright. My secret is: I ran away from home.”

“Wait, really?” Conner stared. Tim didn’t look like a runaway and he didn’t act like he was hiding something.

“Yup. I ran away from home about three months ago and haven’t spoken with them since.” Tim’s voice was sad. He clearly didn’t regret his decision, but he wasn’t happy with it either.

“Why?” Conner asked.

Tim slumped back in his seats. “Fair warning, it’s after two in the morning, so everything I say is going to be viciously honest.”

“I won’t judge.” Conner kicked his legs up on a chair, getting comfy.

“I just…” Tim sighed. “My family has more drama than most soap operas, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Begin at the beginning,” Conner quoted. “And go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

Tim kicked him under the table. “Okay so, the beginning. I’m adopted. My parents where not bad people. They were a great deal like George and Lydia. They bought me anything I wanted, but I cannot remember either of them hugging me.”

Conner made a noise of dismay.

“I don’t think they realized what they were doing, I don’t think they thought about anyone but themselves. They weren’t cruel, they just didn’t know how to handle a child. And then they died and I was adopted by Bruce. I found an older brother in his first adopted son, Dick. And things…” Tim cleared his throat. “Things were great. I was the happiest I can remember.”

Conner waited. He didn’t think that was the end.

“I guess things started to go downhill when Bruce’s second son, Jason, came home. I was so excited to meet him, but I believe he thought I’d replaced him, and he hated me. I don’t blame him, I would’ve hated me.” Tim let loose a bitter laugh. “I understand how he felt when Bruce’s biological son showed up. And he hated me too. I don’t know why, I don’t think I’m that bad a person.”

Conner took one of Tim’s hands. Tim seemed so lost that Kon wanted to give him a hug, but settled for gripping his hand tight. “I’ve only known you for less than two hours, but Tim. You’re not a bad person.”

“Thanks, but you should wait until you know me a bit better. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“You’re not.”

“So sure of that?” Tim challenged.

“You’re too kind to be a serial killer.” It wasn’t even flattery. Tim headed study groups to help struggling students and apparently volunteered at homeless shelters. He was always kind, Kon had never heard him say a harsh word to anyone who didn’t deserve it.

Tim ducked his head in embarrassment but didn’t let go of Conner’s hand. “Anyway, it wouldn’t have been so bad if he just left me alone, but it seemed like he was seeking me out for a fight, sometimes physical. He even stabbed me once.”

“He fucking what?”

“He didn’t come from a good family,” Tim defended “and he’s only ten.”

“Tim, once someone stabs you, age doesn’t matter.”

Tim smiled, but it wasn’t happy. “That’s what I said, but Bruce and Dick both defended him. Then I was getting into fights with them too. Damian seemed to realize that he wasn’t getting punished and got worse. Everyone was telling me to give him a chance and I just… I snapped. I felt like everyone, even Dick, was taking the side of someone who tried to kill me. I said some really, really mean things and then.” Tim paused and swiped at his eyes. “Dick told me that Damian deserved to be a part of the family and I should stop antagonizing him, that I was acting like a spoiled brat and I need to grow up. He said he was leaving with Damian for a bit and he wanted me to apologize for my actions when they got back. I didn’t even tell them what I was doing. I packed up and left while Dick was with Damian at the arcade, his apology to Damian for my bad behavior.”

Tim rested his head against the table. “The only person who knows where I am is our grandfather, Alfred. He helped me pack and promised to keep it a secret.”

“Where was your dad during this?” Conner asked incredulity.

“Bruce… Bruce was at work. He had a really big project he was stressing about and wasn’t home a lot. Dick kind of stepped into the Adult in Charge role while he was gone.”

“I don’t think I like your family,” Conner grumbled.

“They’re really not as bad as I’m making them sound. Dick was the best brother I could have wished for, before Damian. And Bruce was a great dad, but he was so worried about Jason and Damian and I just, I slipped under the cracks. They didn’t mean to let it happen.”

“Still…”

“Besides, if nothing else, I did exactly as asked. I grew up. I don’t need Dick or Bruce or any of them. I have my inheritance from my parents, that’s paid for my tuition and then some. I’m learning to stand on my own.”

Conner personally thought that it sounded like Tim had been standing on his own for quite some time.

Tim shook his head, dabbing at the corner of his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to make this into a therapy session. I guess I’ve been wanting to talk about it for a while, you’re the first person I’ve told. This started with me wanting to know what you want from life. I just spilled my heart to you. Now it’s your turn.”

Conner shrugged. “It’s nothing quite as dramatic as your life. I haven’t chosen my major because it feels too permanent.”

“So, you do know what you want to do?” Tim asked, propping himself up on his elbows, so he could look into Conner’s eyes.

“Yeah. I want to be a pediatrician.”

Tim snorted. Conner glared at him. “I didn’t laugh at your tragic backstory.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just, that’s such a good choice. I thought that you were going to say you wanted to become, I don’t know, an artist who only makes statues out of pasta.”

“Okay, that’s a horrible job idea. Why did you think that? Do I give off the aura of a macaroni artist or something?”

“No! I thought the reason you haven’t told anyone your dream job is because it was something ridiculous or your parents disapproved.”

"You don’t think being a pediatrician is ridiculous? For me, I mean?” Conner asked.

“Why on earth would I think it’s ridiculous?”

“I don’t know. I’m not the smartest, I don’t know if I can handle the course load. What if I fail out of the course or something?”

“You are hardworking, smart, and honest. Those are all traits I look for in a doctor.” Tim tilted his head to the side. “Who told you that you’d make a bad doctor?”

“No one, but I-”

“No buts. I think you’ll make a great doctor, Conner.” Tim rested his face on his hand, staring at Conner contemplatively. “What made you want to be a doctor?”

Conner was about to answer “the money”, but after everything Tim had confided in him, he thought Tim deserved complete honesty.

“I have a little brother. He hates going to the doctor, he’s scared to death of it. I want to help kids like him and make them feel comfortable. I know it’s really scary to go to the doctors, where people stab you with needles and use big, confusing words, so I want to be there for my patients and be the kind of doctor the kids are excited to see.”

“That sounds like a great dream. What’s stopping you?”

“For one thing, I have to go to school for even longer, which means more tuition fees. I mean, I’m paying school myself. My family can’t afford to support me. If I fail out, I’ll be thousands of dollars in debt, with no degree and no job.”

“I think you can do it. If money’s the problem, I know a quick fix.” Tim pulled out his phone. “There’s a scholarship for people like you, who want to become doctors. It’s called the Thomas Wayne Medical Scholarship.”

“Thomas Wayne… I feel like I’ve heard that name before.”

Tim’s face twitched slightly. “You may have. He was one of most prominent surgeons of the last hundred years. But it’s specially for hardworking students with dreams in the medical field. It’s a full ride scholarship. Although, one of the requirements is volunteering a certain number of hours at free clinics, but I think you’d like that. You’d be able to help people, like you want.”

“That sounds… like a dream come true, Tim. Why have I never heard of this before?”

“You ever talk about wanting to be a doctor before?”

“Fair point.” Conner shook his head. “Wanting to be doctor has been my secret for so long. I’ve known you for twenty minutes and I’m telling you everything. I swear I’m not usually like this.”

“Neither am I,” Tim confessed. “I think it’s a combination of late-night honesty and bonding through illegal crimes. That’s how I meet most of my friends.”

“Mmm. I’m glad I didn’t pepper spray you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Tim asked, affronted.

“I saw you breaking into a building! I thought you were some sort of criminal.”

“I mean, I sort of am. But now you are too, so there.” Tim stuck out his tongue at Kon. Kon tried and failed not to find the action endearing.

Tim yawned and rested his head on the table. Conner reached across the table and poked him on the forehead. Tim started slightly and glared at him.

“It’s two in the morning. Do you have much more work do you need to get done?” Conner asked.

“Huh? Oh, no. I finished an hour ago.”

“What are you still doing here? Go home, get some rest.”

“I need to lock up after you leave. And you were working so hard, I didn’t want to stop you. Besides, I’m fine, I’m not even tired-” The end of Tim’s sentence was cut off by another yawn.

Kon was touched that Tim had waited for him to finish, especially when it meant giving up sleep. He knew that every college student valued sleep above almost anything else, and Tim, who was so tired he fell asleep in class, needed it desperately.

“C’mon.” Conner stood and shouldered his bag. He shelved the books he and Tim had been using. Tim watched him through bleary eyes. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

Tim tried to protest, but Kon scooped up his backpack and started to walk away, forcing him to follow.

Conner walked out the front door, which Tim locked behind him. A few moments later, Tim crawled out the window he used to enter. Conner watched him like a hawk. A single slip could send Tim plummeting to the ground. But his worries were for nothing. Tim climbed the wall with absolute ease, landing in a backflip.

He stuck the landing and took a step forward and stumbled. Conner was by his side before he could trip and caught his elbow. Tim smiled his thanks and reached for his backpack.

“I got it.” Conner slung the backpack over his shoulder. “Where’s your dorm?”

Tim tried once more to grab his bag before giving up. “You know the one by the park? Kirby?”

They walked in silence, content in each other’s company. When they arrived at Tim’s dorm, Conner passed him the backpack.

“I guess this is goodnight,” said Kon.

“Give me your phone.” Kon gave in to the demand and Tim typed something before passing it back. “There. Now you have my number. Text me when you get back, so I know you’re safe.”

Conner grinned. The whole way home he’d been racking his brain for a way to ask for Tim’s number. He was glad that Tim was a lot bolder than he was. His phone felt warm in his pocket. He knew people who would kill for Tim’s number.

“Will do,” he promised. Tim smiled shyly. Suddenly fearless, Kon decided to take a chance. “Want to meet for breakfast? I’ll buy?”

“I don’t plan on waking up before noon, but if you’re good with brunch, I’d love to.”

“That’s perfect,” Kon hasted to agree. “I know a great diner.”

“It’s a date,” said Tim. He realized what he said. “Um, yeah. See you tomorrow?”

Conner couldn’t keep the dopey smile off his face. “Until tomorrow. Goodnight Tim.”

“’Night, Kon.” Tim waved his hand and disappeared into his dorm.

Conner stood outside the dorm, sighing in happiness. He was honestly thankful for his professor for assigning the paper. He never would have worked up the courage to talk to Tim otherwise. The stars had aligned for him.

He walked back to his dorm, having missed the last bus. He unlocked his dorm room and slipped inside, careful not to wake his roommate. 

The second he entered his room he collapsed on his bed. He tugged out his phone and pulled up his most recent contact, simply labeled _Tim_. Conner added a few heart emojis to the end and sent a simple _Made it back safe, can’t wait for tomorrow. _Tim texted back immediately_ That makes two of us_.

Conner clutched his phone to his chest, sighing blissfully.

He had a _date_.

**Author's Note:**

> Conner forgot to turn off his alarm and will wake up at six in the morning. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please drop a comment or kudos if you can, I thrive on positive reinforcement. 
> 
> Vandyre University does exist in DC comics! Kara Zor-El was a student there and it’s near San Francisco and that’s all I really care or know about it. Everything else about it I improvised. Conner’s dorm is named after Black Canary and Tim’s dorm is named after Jack Kirby, because I’m lazy.  
I think that’s it for today!


End file.
